


Charmer

by winterironspiderling



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bisexual Peter Parker, Bucky Barnes's Metal Arm, Christmas Party, Everyone Gets Along!, First Time Blow Jobs, If you have a kink for Bucky's arm this fic is for you, M/M, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Sharing a Bed, Sharing a Room, Size Difference, Size Kink, Virgin Peter Parker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:21:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21923590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winterironspiderling/pseuds/winterironspiderling
Summary: A prompt from Tumblr: Winterspider with the One Bed One Blanket trope.--Peter attends Tony's Christmas party at Avengers Compound where he meets Bucky for the first time as Peter Parker. They chat and bond for the entire night, but what really gets the train rolling is Peter having to share a room with Bucky since there aren't enough rooms for all the guests to be accommodated unless some people double up and share a bed.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Peter Parker
Comments: 32
Kudos: 741
Collections: Marvel(ous)Universe





	1. The Party

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoy the story. For some reason, I can't write anything less than 5000 words, so this turned a bit long for what it is. To whomever prompted this, let me know what you think. :)

Since Peter was the youngest Avenger and not even drinking age, he hadn’t expected Tony to invite him to his Christmas party at the compound. The man was going all out for the festivities, and that included an open bar. Even if Peter was invited, he wasn’t sure that he would go. He knew it would be foolish to pass up the opportunity, but he was intimidated; even the Avengers from off world were invited, as well as King T’Challa. Peter found the journey from Queens to Manhattan long, so he couldn’t imagine making his way to Upstate New York let alone T’Challa flying in from Africa or the Guardians from Space.

Because he was nervous and because he didn’t want to risk making a fool of himself in front of Earth’s Mightiest Heroes, he RSVP’d no and thought no more of it.

When the last Saturday before Christmas rolled around, and it was time for the party, Peter began to regret his decision. He called Tony an hour before the party was supposed to start.

“I knew you’d change your mind,” Tony said victoriously. “You’re lucky I have a jet standing by for you.”

Peter sighed in relief. “Thank you, Tony. Should I bring a gift or something?”

“We’re not doing Secret Santa, if that’s what you mean. Just show up.”

“Cool. See you soon.”

“A car is on its way.” Tony hung up.

Peter knew the extent of Tony’s wealth, but he was still amazed at how beautifully the compound was decorated. His eyes were sensitive to all the bright lights and glinting ornaments, but he could still appreciate the look. He was embarrassed to be arriving slightly late to the party, but when he walked in, everybody was mingling and paying no mind to the entrance.

Peter didn’t know whether to expect a dinner type thing with seven courses, or a snack table type event. He was hoping for a self-serve buffet table, and Tony didn't disappoint.

In an attempt to avoid speaking to anyone before he settled in and got over his nerves, he headed straight to the food and piled his plate. The room was full, and he barely recognized anyone. So far, the only person he’d spoken to was the coat check. And, if Tony’s A.I.’s counted, then he’d spoken to Jarvis as well when his retina had been scanned for security.

After he’d made a sizable dent in his food, he looked up to survey the room. He spotted Tony in a small circle with Pepper at his side. They were chatting with someone Peter didn’t know. He turned his attention back to the plate.

A server appeared the moment he’d taken his last bite. “Good evening, sir. Can I take your drink order?”

“Oh, hi. Uh..sure. A Coke please?” Peter pulled at his tie awkwardly. He had been planning on wearing a red sweater with jeans, but he was glad May had vetoed that one. Everyone was dressed to the nines. The server looked better than he did, even.

“Make that two.”

Peter turned. _Holy shit._ It was Bucky Barnes. He tried to hide his wide eyes, but he couldn’t tell if he’d succeeded.

“Certainly,” the server replied.

Peter willed himself to relax, but his senses were telling him he should be scared. He’d met Bucky in passing a few times, but it was always in uniform. He hadn’t met Bucky as Peter Parker, yet. It was very humbling.

“You’re Spider-Man,” Bucky commented.

“Sometimes,” Peter said.

Bucky didn’t say anything. He looked around like he was beginning to regret saying anything at all.

“You can sit if you want,” Peter offered. They had the table all to themselves.

Bucky took him up on the offer.

“So, you’re not drinking either?” Peter searched for something to say.

Bucky shook his head. “Nope. Useless.”

“Right,” Peter said. “I forgot you guys can’t get drunk.”

“It’s all right. I probably wouldn’t anyway.”

“Same. If I was old enough, I don’t think I would. Actually, I don’t know if I can get drunk either, now that I think about it.”

Bucky nodded in understanding.

Peter bit his lip. He was starting to get why almost everyone in the room was huddled by the bar like animals at the watering hole. It probably made it a lot easier to talk to people. At least that’s what he’d heard.

“I’m gonna get more food. Can I grab you anything?”

Bucky looked at Peter oddly. “No thanks I’m fine.”

“Cool. I’ll be right back.”

When Peter returned, the Cokes were waiting, and Bucky was still there. Peter had figured Bucky would’ve peaced after getting his drink. He offered Bucky an awkward smile and took his seat.

Peter was on his second plate and still hadn’t even tried every food item available. It wasn’t the chips and dip or cheese and crackers he was used to. This time he’d selected food from the Italian section of the buffet. Cheese-stuffed riceballs with marinara. Just as he took an obscenely big bite, Tony stopped by to greet him.

“Mr. Parker. I see you’ve found James.”

Peter glanced at Bucky. He was expressionless.

Peter swallowed painfully to answer. “Hey, Mr. Stark…actually he found me. We’re Coke comrades this evening.”

“Jesus,” Tony cringed. “I guess I found the daycare-retirement home hybrid table.”

Peter laughed. “Laugh all you want. You’re paying for me to feed my face. I expect naptime after this, by the way.”

Tony grinned, “Let me know if you actually need anything. Glad you ended up showing your face.”

“Thanks, Tony.”

Peter glanced at Bucky to see if he would say anything, but the man was still quiet.

“Oh by the way,” Peter said after Tony left. “Is it okay if I call you Bucky? I know that’s your name, but is it just for people you know, or should I call you James? Barnes? Mr. Soldier? Sarge? That’s why I didn’t say anything before. My name’s Peter in case you didn't know. When I’m not Spider-Man…”

Bucky raised his eyebrows. “Bucky’s fine.”

“Cool. You can call me Peter or Pete. Whatever. Tony calls me Mr. Parker to tease me.”

“How about Petey?”

“Oh my God,” he blushed. “That’s…no.”

"Noted," Bucky smirked. “You and Stark are close then?”

“Oh, yeah,” Peter agreed. “I think parties make him nervous, though. Usually, he talks more, and he’s nicer.”

“He seemed okay.”

“I guess. He should’ve been nicer to you.”

“Me? Why?” Bucky frowned in confusion.

“Well,” Peter grimaced. “You’ve been through a lot. Saying the retirement home thing…it’s, I don’t know, equating me to a daycare because I’m young is one thing, but with you it’s different. I don’t know, maybe I’m just sensitive. Forget it.”

Bucky was silent as he processed Peter’s words. “It’s all right, I’ve heard a lot worse,” he said finally.

Peter frowned, “Like what?”

Bucky ran a hand through his hair, “Like you said. I’ve been through a lot. I don’t blame anyone for what they think. Plus, I should technically be dead.”

“It’s still not fair,” Peter decided.

“You sound like Steve.”

“Then he’s right,” Peter smirked.

Bucky rolled his eyes. “What is it with tiny people from New York?”

“Tiny?” Peter asked. “How dare you. I take everything back.”

“You can’t. Too late,” Bucky said smugly.

Peter sighed “Yeah, I guess I am tiny…I’ve been 5’6" since I was like 12. It sucks. You’re so lucky.”

Bucky shook his head, “Your size is good for swinging around. If I tried to do what you did, I’d look like a strung-up bulldozer.”

“I’d pay to see that.”

“If we ever do a mission together, you’ll see,” Bucky shrugged.

“That’d be sick,” Peter commented.

“I’m grabbing a refill. You want?” Bucky asked.

“Sure, thanks.” Peter wondered where the server had run off to. He imagined the staff were more than a little bit intimidated by the present company—he probably would’ve disappeared too if he had to serve a room full of Avengers and royalty.

Peter was more comfortable now that he’d been acknowledged by more than Jarvis. He looked around the room more confidently to check out more of the guests while he waited for Bucky. He saw Rocket which still blew his mind and Nick Fury made a very brief appearance. It was a pretty good turn out.

His eyes ended up landing on Bucky standing at the bar in no time. The guy really was tall. Imposing, too. The other guests gave Bucky a natural berth when he walked through the crowd and when he planted himself in front of the bartender. Peter noted he’d be nice to have around while he walked to the subway for school. Nobody really ran into him or took up his space because he was deft enough to avoid people before it happened, but before he’d become Spider-Man, people walked into him constantly. It was like he was invisible, and being small didn’t help. He envied Bucky’s stature.

Peter kept staring, checking out Bucky’s bomber jacket that somehow looked dressy even though every other man in the room had a suit on. His longer hair looked classy too. Bucky turned around and caught his eye, smirking when he realized Peter was already looking. Peter jerked his head away. _Oh my God._

Peter waited a few seconds and looked back in Bucky’s direction. He was on his way over.

“Hey,” Peter greeted when Bucky returned.

“Sorry it took so long.”

“No worries,” Peter tapped his fingers on the table lightly. He tried to think of something else to say. He didn’t want to bore Bucky and make him leave.

“Did you come here with anyone?” Peter asked.

“Like a date?”

“If you did, I’d feel sorry for her,” Peter joked. “Or him. Whoever.”

“Should I be offended?”

“No, oh no, I didn’t mean it like that. Because you haven’t spoken to anyone but me,” Peter rushed to explain.

Peter had to refrain from putting his head in his hands. He was digging himself into a hole. And why had he said “or him”. _Stupid._ Bucky was not from this generation, so even if he was interested in men, he was probably so far in the closet he was behind the clothes. Peter was curious, though. Even if Bucky was interested in guys, that didn’t mean he was interested in Peter. Peter figured there was at least 100 years age difference there. May would kill him. Tony probably would too.

Peter was relieved when Bucky’s expression changed from confused to amused.

“Right,” Bucky said. “Definitely no date. I came with Sam and Steve. That’s like the opposite of a date.”

Peter laughed before turning serious. “I couldn’t imagine bringing a date to a fancy party like this.”

Bucky asked why without saying anything.

“First of all, nobody wants to date me. Second of all, if I brought someone to a Stark party, they’d immediately realize I’m not rich or cool, and I can’t compete with that. Third of all, I can’t imagine a civilian being comfortable here around all these heroes which is basically the fourth of all: nobody can know my identity.”

“I thought I had problems,” Bucky shook his head sadly. “You poor kid.”

“Shut up,” Peter smiled. “I’m serious.”

“The right person will make those problems irrelevant,” Bucky said. “Or at least that’s what people tell me.”

“You’re probably right. It’s just hard to think like that when you’re in the middle of it.”

“If it makes you feel better, imagine trying to find someone to date when you’re as fucked up as me. How do you explain _that_ to someone?”

“Is this where I repeat your advice back to you?”

Bucky grinned. “No, I’m good. Steve and Sam are up my ass with all their positivity and therapy shit. I don’t need it from you too.”

“Fair enough,” Peter said. “I guess in your case it’s tough because you can’t really relate to anyone because you’re so out of time. I mean, I don’t want to assume, but it just seems like common sense.”

Bucky sighed. “It used to be worse. Now I’m mostly acclimated. Sometimes even I forget that I’m not supposed to be here.”

“It’s so cool though,” Peter said wistfully. “Like if you think about everything that’s ever happened and how everything in your life leads up to the present moment? Everything that's happened in the last hundred years before I was even born, and all this time you've been alive, and your relatives meeting before you were even born? All so that we could be here at this table now drinking soda? That kind of stuff keeps me up at night.”

“I think about that constantly,” Bucky admitted. “Every time I watch a movie or listen to music, or meet someone, I think about how if things had gone another way, that would’ve never happened. Sometimes it makes me feel lucky, but sometimes it doesn’t.”

Peter shook his head, “Well I’m glad you have friends like Steve and Sam. That’s probably the best team you could ask for—except when they’re annoying you, I guess.”

“Right,” Bucky agreed. “That’s the thing. Sometimes it’s nice to have Steve because he gets it, but then other times he’s a reminder of everything I lost since he shouldn’t be around either. And Sam is such a ‘look on the bright side’ person, and that’s not me. It’s…it’s fucked.”

“And you can’t say that to them because it sounds mean, even though it’s not meant that way.”

Bucky nodded.

“I feel that way sometimes when I talk to my aunt. My parents died when I was young…and my uncle Ben died too, sort of recently, but not really. Anyway, how am I supposed to talk to her about it? How can I tell her I miss my parents without making her feel like I’m not happy with her? Obviously she’d get it…but it just feels wrong to say. It just makes her feel bad, so I don’t say anything.”

“I’m sorry,” Bucky offered. “It’s never easy to lose someone.”

“I’m sorry, too. This is supposed to be a party…I didn’t mean to get heavy.”

Bucky shrugged, “People are lying when they say there’s a proper ‘time and place’ for things. Shit just happens whenever it happens.”

“True,” Peter said.

Bucky chuckled, “You know I still remember the first time we met.”

“Oh yeah,” Peter smiled. “When we all signed the Accords, and I was the only one in costume.”

“Yeah, I thought it was the funniest thing I’d ever seen,” Bucky admitted, “and I have a lot of memories to choose from.”

“Didn’t I just say something about how I liked your arm?”

Bucky nodded. “You said 'you have a metal arm? That's awesome, _dude'."_

Peter smiled sheepishly.

"You’re still the only one who’s ever said that. To my face, at least.”

“No way,” Peter said in disbelief. “How can anyone be so tasteless?”

“It either scares people or weirds them out.”

“If I were you, I’d never hide it,” Peter shook his head. “I’d rip the sleeves off everything and toss all my gloves. Screw it. Do you know how badass you look?”

Bucky didn’t say anything.

“You know what, though,” Peter backtracked. “You’re smarter than me. If people can’t see it, they can’t plan against it.”

Bucky tilted his head in agreement.

“Imagine if someone tried to mess with you because they didn’t know?” Peter asked in amazement. “I would pay to see the look on their face when they suddenly got thrown across the room.”

“Then again,” Peter added. “I doubt anyone would mess with you regardless. You’d have to be the dumbest person alive.”

“You’d be surprised,” Bucky admitted. After a moment he brought his arm up and rested his hand on the table.

If Bucky was a stranger to him, Peter wouldn’t have been able to tell his arm was metal at all. It was silent under the sleeve of his jacket, and his hand was gloved.

Bucky looked Peter in the eye for a moment before taking the glove off.

“Oh my God, it really must be Christmas,” Peter mused. “It’s exquisite.”

Bucky huffed.

Peter reached for the hand. “So, can you feel this?” He asked.

“Yep,” Bucky nodded.

“This is so cool. I’m practically crying.”

Bucky looked around to see if anyone was paying attention to what was going on. Sam had once told him he was like a Vulcan when it came to his arm. Touching his hand was very intimate. He usually only used it for killing. If Sam saw this going down, he’d never let Bucky hear the end of it. Bucky just liked seeing the wonder on Peter’s face.

“If you moved wrong,” Peter started. “Could you accidentally break something, or are the mechanics more advanced than that?”

“It’s hard to say,” Bucky explained. “I’m careful no matter what.”

“Right,” Peter said. “Makes sense. When I first got my strength, I kept taking doors of their hinges. It was awful. Very hard to explain. I have to be careful, too.”

Bucky smiled and relaxed a little more in his chair. He started thinking about what he’d said to Peter about the right person making all your concerns irrelevant. He bet he wouldn’t have to be careful at all around Peter if they became closer. If he accidentally lost control, he wouldn’t have to worry about killing him.

Bucky decided to take a risk. He closed his fingers around Peter’s hand and squeezed.

“Sick,” Peter breathed. “Such smooth movements.” The boy was out of the hold in an instant and squeezed Bucky's hand back. It hurt.

Bucky tried to conceal his awe.

“Nice try, Bucko,” Peter said with a smirk. “You don’t scare me.”

“Good, I don’t want to,” Bucky replied.

Peter’s smirk faltered. What?

“Well, well, tell me if I’m interrupting something.”

Peter and Bucky looked up at Sam simultaneously.

Bucky rolled his eyes and put his glove back on. He casually moved his hand back under the table. “What do you want?”

“Came to check on the kiddie table,” Sam explained. “Got tired of the grown-ups.”

“Try again,” Peter challenged. “That joke’s already been taken.”

Bucky laughed. Finally someone who could give it back to Sam.

“By who?” Sam protested.

“The host,” Bucky explained.

“Damn, I bet my delivery was better, though. Whatever, I’ll take it.”

“Debatable,” Bucky said.

“So what are we drinking? Capri Sun on ice?” Sam joked.

“That’s better,” Peter smiled. “And yes.”

Sam grabbed a seat. He set a beer in front of him. “Steve’s on his way over.”

Peter heard Sam mutter to himself, “Better not forget my damn crab legs.”

Peter smirked and noticed Bucky was too. He must’ve heard also.

“Don’t be crabby,” Peter said. “I’m sure he won’t forget.”

“Man, it’s Christmas,” Sam complained. “Can’t I get a break from all your super-hearing for one damn night?”

“You get to drink,” Peter shrugged. “We think that’s enough of a break for you.”

“Oh, so it’s _we_ now,” Sam remarked, waggling his eyebrows. “I told you to tell me if I was interrupting something.”

Bucky sighed and spoke very lowly without moving his mouth. Peter was the only one who could hear. “Sorry about him. He’s…obnoxious.”

Peter smiled infinitesimally.

“Knock it off, Sam,” Bucky spoke loudly enough for Sam to hear.

Peter knew Sam about the same as he knew Bucky, but from what he’d heard, the guy was a real jokester. The more you reacted the more he teased.

“You’re right, Sam. We should’ve told you…we were in the middle of an intense discussion. We’re actually thinking about eloping. We’ve fallen madly in love, and I’m dropping out of high school so we can hit the road,” Peter said seriously. “If you can pay for your flight, you can come.”

Sam and Bucky exchanged a look and then Sam shook his head. “Ah, I’m just giving you shit. Where is Steve with those damn crab legs? I’m starving.”

When Sam wasn’t looking, Bucky gave Peter a thumbs up. Peter sat straighter in his seat with the praise. His guess had been correct. Hitting Sam straight on was the way to go.

Eventually Steve showed up and then Peter was trying to stay relevant in the conversation since he was the fourth wheel.

They were all seated around the table when Tony and Pepper took the stage to thank everyone for coming. He explained that several rooms were available for overnight guests. Only a few people had regular rooms that they stayed in if they frequented the compound. Peter, Sam, Steve, and Bucky all had one.

After Tony’s speech he came over to the table. “Hey boys. How’s the party?”

“It’s great, Tony. Thank you,” Steve spoke for the table.

Tony nodded. “Oh by the way. A couple of people from T’Challa’s entourage had a bit of a tiff, so they’re not sharing a room anymore. And a couple of Pepper’s relatives showed up unexpectedly…”

“They can have my room,” Peter shrugged.

“Superb,” Tony said. “I need one more.”

Steve lifted his hand from the table. “I’ll double up with Sam.”

Bucky glanced at Peter, “Peter can stay in my room.”

“Thanks guys,” Tony lifted his drink. “I owe you one. I’d never hear the end of it if someone ended up on the couch under my roof.”

Peter laughed. He tried to play it cool, but his heart was racing. Why wouldn’t Steve and Bucky just share a room? They were supposed to be besties. Was Bucky hurt that Steve picked Sam over him? He looked from man to man, trying to understand the group dynamics. It hit him after a few seconds that Steve and Bucky probably couldn’t fit in one bed because they were both so huge. Sam was more compact than either of them, and Peter was more compact than any of them.

“Thanks Bucky,” Peter said after a moment.

Sam interjected, “Don’t thank him yet. He snores like a caveman. You’ll never get any sleep.”

“I do not,” Bucky protested.

“He doesn’t,” Steve agreed. “Sam’s messing with you.”

“Well I sleep on the ceiling hanging upside down. Sort of like a bat,” Peter shrugged. “I’m in no place to judge.”

“Damn, I thought the racoon was weird.” Sam expressed in revulsion. “All along I should’ve been worried about you.”

Even Bucky and Steve looked a little taken aback.

Peter kept a straight face. “You guys are so gullible.”

Everyone laughed. “I see why Stark likes you so much,” Steve offered. “You’re a funny kid.”

Peter beamed, and when he looked out of the corner of his eye to see Bucky’s reaction, the man was smiling.

After another hour, Sam decided he’d had enough beer and it was time to turn in. Both Sam and Steve said goodnight, and Peter was left alone with Bucky for the second time.

“So…whenever you want to go is fine,” Peter suggested. “I can stay up late or go up now. It doesn’t matter.”

“Let’s wait a bit. I think they’re ordering pizza for a midnight snack.”

“Good call, man. You’re speaking my language,” Peter said appreciatively.

“I can speak twenty, odds are one of them would be yours.”

Peter leaned back from the table. He got the feeling Bucky was bragging a little bit. Just like when he’d whipped his arm out for him to take a look at. Peter could appreciate that Bucky liked being appreciated.

“What else can you do?” Peter encouraged Bucky. He was terrible at flirting, so he had no idea if it had landed until Bucky’s eyes brightened at the question. Peter knew he’d guessed right. Bucky liked being admired. That was an easy one, Peter didn’t have to fake that.


	2. The Afterparty

By the time they headed up to Bucky’s room, Peter was nervous. He wondered if he’d been reading things wrong. Could Bucky be interested in him? It was one thing to like being liked…Peter had that quality, Tony had that quality. Almost everyone did. Peter didn’t take that to mean that Bucky specifically liked being admired by him. He didn’t want to push his luck—he didn’t have alcohol as an excuse, and if Bucky rejected him, facing him while they were on a mission or training at the compound would be awkward as hell. Steve and Sam would find out and tease him. Tony would find out and give him a lecture, then tell May who would give him another lecture. Natasha would find out—if she didn’t know already—and smile knowingly at him. It would be embarrassing.

Bucky went to the dresser as soon as they entered. Peter watched him unroll a piece of leather, and then he reached into his pocket. He pulled out a knife and slipped it into a strap embedded in the leather. Peter was about to turn away and look around at more of the room’s features when Bucky reached behind his back and pulled out another knife from his belt. The process repeated a dozen times. A knife from his ankle, one from under his shirt, one from up his sleeve, and on, and on until the leather case was full.

“You could probably kill me a thousand different ways,” Peter commented.

“Probably,” Bucky agreed. He glanced at Peter with a playful expression.

Peter laughed and shot a web at Bucky’s knife case and snatched it away from him.

“How many ways now?” Peter asked now that he had all the weapons.

“Two thousand.”

Peter walked the case back over and set it where it had originally lain. “I forgot to get my stuff from my room before they occupied it,” he realized. “I don’t have my toothbrush.”

“Someone was in here before we came up,” Bucky said. “Your stuff is probably in the bathroom.”

“Dude,” Peter shook his head. “How can you know that?” He walked over to the bathroom, and sure enough, his backpack was there.

“I’m a spy,” Bucky said, leaning on the door-frame with his arms crossed. “I know everything.”

“Okay,” Peter said. “Okay. What school do I go to?”

“Oh no, we’re not doing this,” Bucky said.

“Why not?” Peter pouted.

“Because people think it’s fun until you say something that’s a little too much. Then they think you’re creepy.”

“You say it like it happens all the time.”

“Sam asked once. He didn’t speak to me for a week after I told him how much money he had to the cent.”

“Why did you know that?”

“I don’t do it on purpose. Sometimes people leave mail out, or they say things they don’t realize connect to other things they’ve said, and my brain just…holds onto it. I don’t snoop...most of the time.”

“Then that’s not fair for him to be creeped out,” Peter assessed, “I could probably tell you a few things about yourself since your life is in a museum for everyone to see. People probably tell you things about yourself that you don’t even know…how do they think that makes you feel?”

Bucky huffed. “Yeah tell me about it.” His features were soft. Peter wished there was even a one percent chance that Bucky wanted him. He could work with one percent.

“Anyway,” Peter waved. “Go ahead. Tell me a couple things. I absolutely swear not to get mad.”

“Your middle name is Benjamin.”

“And?”

Bucky rolled his eyes, “Your first girlfriend was Michelle Jones. You call her MJ. She broke up with you to experience adolescent heartbreak on her own terms. You have a perfect GPA. You’re bisexual. You hate raisins. You don’t understand the purpose of throw pillows. Your best friend is Ned Leeds…is that enough?”

“That’s why she broke up with me? Even I didn’t know that,” Peter held up his hands. “What the hell?”

Bucky shrugged. “You like complicated people I guess.”

“Okay, spill. You have her on social media or something. I didn’t say anything about that.”

Bucky zipped his lips.

“I know,” Peter said. “You researched me when I first joined the team to make sure I wasn’t a sleeper cell or something. You found my Instagram!”

“What’s Instagram?”

Peter’s triumphant smile faltered. “What? It’s an app.”

“An app?”

“You know, for your cellphone?” Peter frowned. Okay, if that wasn’t it, then how? He was curious to know what else Bucky knew about him. Probably where he lived?

“What’s a cellphone?”

Peter was about to explain, and then he realized Bucky was fucking with him. “Oh my God, Bucky. You’re a dick.”

Bucky just laughed. “You should really delete your profile, or at least make it private. Hell, an idiot could know that stuff.”

“Hey, I just told you I didn’t know that about MJ. Does that make me better or worse than an idiot?” Peter teased.

“That's a question for another day," Bucky held up his hands. “Now brush your teeth. I have more knives I’d like to remove, and I don’t want you to know all my hiding spots.”

Peter grinned and closed the door in front of Bucky’s face. He listened as hard as he could, but Bucky was almost perfectly silent. Peter didn’t think he’d be able to find every single knife or gun stowed in the bedroom without Jarvis’ help.

When he was alone, Peter checked out the surroundings. If Bucky was allowed to know things about him, then he didn’t feel guilty checking out his toiletries. Peter blushed when he thought about finding condoms.

Bucky had a safety razor and shaving cream next to the sink, along with a bottle of aftershave and cologne. There was also shampoo, conditioner, and exfoliating bodywash in the shower. All his stuff looked fancy and definitely not what Peter had expected from the man. Bucky seemed like a 3-in-1 product type of guy, a gruff macho soldier. Why did he use a fancy razor?

Peter picked the razor up, weighing it in his hand. He had never shaved before. At his rate, he didn’t think he’d ever have to. The razor was still interesting, though. It looked like one wrong move with that blade would result in a slit throat. He put it back down. Why it was called a safety razor was beyond him.

The most interesting thing on the counter was a toolkit. Peter opened it, genuinely puzzled as to why Bucky would have tools in the bathroom. It was Stark Tech. Peter felt dumb when he saw the microtools and spare panels. It was for Bucky’s arm. Peter had spent so much time in awe of it that he forgot it actually needed to be maintained and serviced. He wondered if that was awkward for Bucky since he and Tony didn’t seem to talk much.

Peter closed the box and gave the room another look. To his surprise, there were no weapons taped to the bottom of the vanity or behind the toilet. It was just a regular bathroom, but he would bet his life that there were weapons hidden somewhere in it, though. He had so much to think about, and he’d learned so much about Bucky that he knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep. His mind was already racing. He returned the room before his absence became suspicious.

Now that he and Bucky had stopped talking, it felt awkward. He wasn’t sure if he should pick the conversation back up, or if he should wait for Bucky to speak to him first. Bucky was sitting on the foot of the bed unlacing his boots. Peter had worried about what to say and when for nothing because in the actual situation, he just blurted things out as he thought them.

“Why don’t you get boots with a zipper? Seems like a lot of work.”

Bucky didn’t look up and his hair covered his face, so Peter couldn’t read his expression. Finally, the boot came off, and then Bucky met Peter’s eyes. “Lace-ups are more reliable. Plus they look cooler.”

Peter nodded, “Right, ‘course.”

Bucky didn’t say anything else. Peter retrieved his backpack. He grimaced when he took inventory of everything and realized that he was a bit lacking in the pajama department. “Shit,” he said under his breath.

“What’s the problem?”

Peter jumped. He had not heard Bucky approach; He wasn’t used to being around people who were capable of sneaking up on him or hearing him.

“Dude, you scared me,” Peter put a hand over his heart. “Nobody sneaks up on me like that.”

Bucky crossed his arms. “So, what’s the problem.”

“Whoever packed my bag forgot some stuff,” Peter explained. “It’s no big deal.”

“Do you need to borrow something?”

“Uhm, maybe,” Peter admitted. “I guess it depends. Like, if we’re going to be sharing the bed, then I’d just be in boxers, and I don’t want to make you uncomfortable…It’s not that big of a deal…unless you think it is?”

Bucky’s expression gave nothing away, “I sleep in the nude.”

Peter froze, his mouth open while he processed what Bucky had just said.

“I’m kidding,” Bucky’s face finally relaxed into a smile.

“Oh.” Peter tried not to seem disappointed. Then he remembered the tidbit of information Bucky had mentioned when he was doing the personality profile. Bucky knew he was bi. Did that matter? Did Bucky think he was going to try something? Peter doubted it. Even if he had the guts to try something, Bucky would probably choke him out before he got very far. The thought was kind of exciting.

“Grab one of my shirts,” Bucky gestured to his dresser. “Middle drawer.”

Peter flipped to the dresser without giving it a second thought. He pulled out a burgundy Henley. Finally, he could get rid of the noose around his neck that everyone else called a tie. He unbuttoned his dress shirt and threw it on the ground in a ball.

He slipped on Bucky’s shirt, and then his face flamed. “Uhh…” He turned to face Bucky, but the man was already staring. Oh God. How much had he seen?

“It’s a little big?” Peter said sheepishly. The neck was dangerously close to slipping off his shoulder.

Bucky kept his face neutral, and Peter was surprised the man wasn’t laughing at him. Anyone else would’ve.

“Looks great,” Bucky said finally.

Peter grimaced. He felt like a little kid. _Fuck it. Might as well lose the pants too._ Peter unbuckled his belt from under the shirt and slipped his slacks off. His plaid boxers matched the shirt, though they were barely visible since the shirt was long on him. He flipped back over to the bed. Peter sat patiently while Bucky headed to the bathroom. He tried not to listen to what was going on in there, but it was hard not to. He blushed when he realized Bucky had heard him too, and probably knew he’d snooped. Oh well. The cologne had smelled delightful. It was worth it.

Peter scrolled through his phone, deleting every picture on his Instagram that was too revealing. It would’ve been easier to delete the whole thing, but that felt too intense. He was distracted by his task, but then Bucky finally emerged. Peter looked up from his phone to explain what he was doing, but the words died in his throat. Bucky was casually walking around to the other side of the bed as if he wasn’t a model? Some sort of god? A king? Peter felt like a cartoon character that needed to shake the rocks out of his head.

Bucky was in black boxer-briefs and nothing else. His muscled chest was on full display. His thick legs. Peter knew he was gaping, but he couldn’t help it. Bucky was physically breathtaking. He probably had zero percent body fat, and Peter felt personally attacked by that. It was cruel. Peter knew he was toned, but that was nothing compared to this. Ugh, and the metal arm. It was shiny and perfect. Peter felt blessed that he’d gotten to examine it earlier, but that was just the hand. He wanted to explore everything.

Peter’s elation faded when he noticed the scars surrounding the metal. It was easy to forget that Bucky had paid a price for his body to be this way. Peter felt guilty for being so attracted to him, but it was hard not to be. After he tore his eyes away from the arm, he expected to see more scars, but the ones around his shoulder were the only ones.

“You don’t have any scars,” Peter said. “I…sort of pictured you looking like swiss cheese. You know, tons of bullet scars?”

Bucky glanced at him. “I heal fast.”

“Right, but why the scars around your shoulder then?”

“I always wonder that,” Bucky admitted. “Doesn’t really make sense. But I rarely get hit, to be honest. When I do, I'm usually wearing bullet and knife-proof everything."

Peter was thoughtful. He pulled the shirt back up on his shoulder while he watched Bucky get into the bed. All the preamble was over, and it was finally time. The bed was a queen, and Peter laughed at the idea of Steve and Bucky sharing because Bucky took up most of the bed. He would have to ask Tony to get everyone king beds instead. Peter figured Bucky and Steve were too proud to ask, but he wasn’t. He knew Tony enjoyed spoiling the team, and if they wanted for something it was because Tony didn’t know they wanted it.

Bucky pressed the remote next to him and the lights went out.

“Thanks again for letting me share,” Peter said to break the silence after a few moments.

“It’s nothing,” Bucky insisted. “You know now that this has happened, Tony’ll start expanding the housing wing within a week.”

“Oh my God, I bet you’re right,” Peter giggled in the dark. “He’s probably already called the architect. The place already has 100 bedrooms and it's not enough.”

Peter could see Bucky smile. He wondered if Bucky knew he could see in the dark. Could Bucky? He adjusted to lie on his side so he could face the man. Between the Henley, the sheets, and Bucky himself, Peter’s nose was overloaded in the best way possible. His mouth watered. There were so many scents to trace. The mint of Bucky’s toothpaste, the musk of his deodorant, spice from his cologne, and the freshness of the laundry detergent. Then there was the underlying scent of the man himself. Peter’s head was starting to go foggy like when he’d first seen Bucky shirtless. What did he smell like to Bucky? _Hopefully good._

Peter was starting to overheat under the blanket. The only saving grace was the coolness of Bucky’s arm. He unthinkingly touched it with the back of his hand. As soon as he did, he remembered Bucky could feel that. His eyes searched for Bucky’s in the dark, but to his surprise the man just looked relaxed.

“Sorry, I get hot at night…you’re nice and cool,” Peter explained. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Bucky assured.

Peter watched the man’s expression and saw that he meant it. Bucky’s eyes were closed. Peter hesitantly reached for it again.

“Wow,” Peter breathed.

Bucky was quiet.

“Do you usually sleep with it?” Peter asked.

Bucky deliberated for a moment. “I do when I’m around people.”

“Oh,” Peter said. That made sense. He guessed Bucky had a lot of partners over the years.

“Not like that. Just these kinds of parties…there’s lots of people around. People we don’t always know.”

“That’s why you had the knives,” Peter realized.

“Well, I usually have a few,” Bucky smiled again. “Today I had the whole set.”

“Did you have guns stashed around the party, too?”

Peter didn’t have to hear the answer to know it.

“I used to sleep in my suit,” Peter said. “The spidersuit.”

“Yeah?”

Peter nodded, then verbalized it when he remembered they were in the dark. He bit his lip. He’d been touching Bucky’s arm for the last few minutes, and the man still hadn’t pulled away or said anything. Was that a sign? He ran is fingernails across one of the metal plates just to see if the difference registered to Bucky.

“Fuck.”

Peter’s eyes flashed to Bucky’s, and he pulled his hand away to give Bucky some space. “Sorry.” He hadn't meant to hurt him.

“No,” Bucky disagreed. “Nobody’s ever done that before. That was…amazing.”

“Oh,” Peter relaxed. He returned his hand to Bucky’s arm. He did it again, but he covered more area. “I’m sorry if I’m creepy for obsessing over your arm,” Peter said quietly. “I’d still think you were awesome without it. I just…I don’t know. It’s cool. That’s all I can say for myself.”

“Don’t worry about it, Petey,” Bucky said. “I’ve got bigger problems than you having a crush on my arm.”

Peter laughed, “I wouldn’t have put it like that, but I guess I can’t argue.” Bucky had called him Petey. Was that intentional?

He continued his movements all the way up to Bucky’s shoulder, but then he accidentally overshot. His fingertips traced against Bucky’s skin instead of the metal. Like someone possessed him and he couldn’t control himself anymore, he kept going, feeling up to Bucky’s neck and the stubble close to his chin. Peter was aching to go further. He was waiting for his brain to stop betraying him so he could just take his hand away and go to bed like a normal person. Bucky had offered to share his room out of generosity, and Peter felt like he was taking advantage. Peter took a breath. _Okay just stop it. Move your hand. You can do it._

Peter shifted away and took his hand with him, feeling satisfied with his self control. He’d copped his feel, now he could rest easy with tons of new material for the spank bank. He’d go to sleep and forget his desire. It was no big deal.

Bucky grabbed his hand before he could fully pull away. Peter’s stomach flipped. Bucky was basically holding his hand, skin on skin. Somehow that felt even better than the metal he'd been thirsting over all night.

“Don’t stop now,” Bucky complained. He rested Peter’s hand onto his chest and let go. “Do the rest.”

Peter didn’t speak, but he hazarded a glance at Bucky’s face. The man was biting his lip. _Oh my God._

Peter did as he was told, and he dragged his fingers across the rest of Bucky’s skin, dipping in and out of the ridges of the man’s muscles. He reached across Bucky’s chest to his other arm, not wanting to neglect any part. It was hard to access without getting too close, and Peter wasn’t sure what to do. Without him having to say anything, Bucky shifted his arm and wrapped it around Peter to pull him flush against his chest. That gave Peter a better reach, but now there was no beating around what this was. His breath wavered when he felt the cool metal of Bucky’s hand reaching up his shirt. It took everything for him not to moan and beg for more.

“You want this, don’t you?” Bucky whispered.

“I—” Peter hesitated. “You already know.”

“Say it,” Bucky challenged.

Peter licked his lips. He was nervous now.

“Now you’re quiet?” Bucky smiled. His teeth gleamed in the darkness.

“I’m a virgin,” Peter admitted in a voice less than a whisper. He wasn’t sure if even Bucky could hear him. “I don’t want to be bad for you and waste your time. I’ll last like ten seconds tops."

“Promise?” Bucky moved his hold on Peter to the back of his head and pulled him in for a kiss.

Peter did his best, but he was sure his kissing was nothing special. He just let Bucky do whatever and tried to move his tongue accordingly. All he could think about was how good it felt and how sweet it tasted. _Am I easy?_ Peter smiled around the kiss as he considered it. He’d been in the bed with Bucky for less than twenty minutes, and he was already spreading his legs. “Do you think I’m a slut?” Peter pulled back. He had to know.

“What?”

“Am I easy?”

Bucky laughed, “I don’t know how to answer that. I can fuck you now, or I can fuck you in two months. What difference does it make?”

“Well you’re not gonna make fun of me with Sam later, are you?”

“I’m not gonna make fun of you to anyone. Who says you’re not gonna run back to that little girlfriend of yours and swear off men altogether after me?”

“Are you crazy?” Peter wondered. “Am I crazy? Why am I so nervous? I’m ruining it.”

“Here,” Bucky huffed. “Let’s see what you have to say after this. Just relax,” He pushed Peter onto the bed and ripped his boxers off.

Peter had no time to protest before Bucky had his mouth on him. “Ohhh fuck. Okay, this is happ—” Peter pressed his fists into his eyes. “How—”

Bucky gripped Peter’s shaft while he swirled his tongue in figure eights around the tip. Peter’s entire body was on fire except for his stomach where Bucky was holding him down. The cold hand was starting to warm up, and Peter was pushed to the edge as he thought of hand-shaped bruises covering his body. “Bucky, please. Please.”

To Peter’s delight, Bucky didn’t stop, and he came down the man’s throat with a groan. He lay his head back on the pillow trying to catch his breath. That was the best thing that had ever happened to him. He hated that it had ended so quickly, but he couldn’t help himself.

Bucky waited, pulling his arm back from Peter’s chest. Peter couldn’t think about anything else except getting his own mouth on Bucky’s dick. He needed it. He sat up suddenly and rushed Bucky, pushing him backwards before crawling between his legs to return the favour.

“Easy, tiger. You might hurt me,” Bucky grinned.

Peter didn’t think or hesitate. He wouldn’t make that mistake again. He reached for Bucky’s dick, elated that the man was already so hard for him. It was nice to be liked. Peter had expected Bucky to have a huge cock, so he wasn’t surprised, but he was still shocked.

“Fuck yes,” Peter commented, wrapping his hand around the base and putting it in his mouth as soon as it was exposed. He’d dreamed of sucking dick for years, and now he finally got to. That was what turned him on about men the most. He wanted his mouth filled, and he wanted to please. The fact that it was Bucky’s dick in his mouth made it a thousand times better.

He had zero technique or finesse, so he just copied what Bucky had done. Except, Bucky’s size being what it was meant half the work was done for him. Peter was naturally deepthroating Bucky just because the man’s cock reached so far into his mouth. He breathed through his nose, but he couldn’t figure out how to swallow around Bucky’s head, so he did it the best he could—messily and loudly.

“Jesus, you’re enjoying this as much as I am,” Bucky said. He ran his hands through Peter’s hair, and the boy’s eyes fluttered shut. “Get on the floor and kneel,” Bucky instructed. Peter flew off the bed to do what Bucky said.

Bucky sat at the foot of the bed and pulled Peter closer. He kept his hand on the back of the boy’s head and pulled him back and forth on his cock.

Peter moaned at the feeling of Bucky having his way with him. He wanted Bucky to come in his mouth more than anything, but Peter didn’t know how much longer he could go. His jaw was already aching and his eyes burned with tears from holding back his gag reflex.

“You were born for this,” Bucky encouraged. “I can’t believe you’re taking it so well the first time.”

Peter picked up the pace after Bucky complimented him. If Bucky thought he was good, then he wanted to be even better. He dug his hands into Bucky’s ass and pulled him as far forward as he could.

Bucky ran his fingers through Peter’s hair, and Peter shuddered. He imagined what sucking Bucky off would be like if the man wasn’t being so nice. If Bucky just threw him around and took what he wanted. He moaned again and took one of his hands off Bucky so he could touch his own dick.

“Come with me,” Bucky said. “I’m almost there.”

Peter flamed when he realized that if Bucky knew what he was doing it was because he could see in the dark too. Bucky grinned when Peter looked up at him. “You’re cute when you blush.”

Peter stroked himself even faster, but he stopped when Bucky threw his head back. He didn’t want to miss it.

“Fuck yess,” Bucky moaned, spilling into Peter’s mouth. He brought his hands down to the boy’s face to slide the errant drool and come back onto his lips. Peter licked it up eagerly. Bucky picked Peter off the floor and put him back on the bed.

Peter whined. He dick was aching so badly. He needed to come.

“You didn’t come?” Bucky asked in disappointment.

“I didn’t want to be distracted,” Peter explained. “You’re…you. So hot.”

“That’s sweet of you to say.”

The next thing Peter knew, Bucky’s hand was on him, and he couldn’t do anything but thrust his hips off the bed and into Bucky’s fist. No words came to mind when he finished. All he could manage was a broken cry. He could live another thousand years, and he would never forget this.

“Mmmm. Thank you. Been thinking about that all night,” Peter said. He waited for Bucky to wipe his hand off and get back into bed. Now that he was allowed to touch him, he didn't want to waste any time.

“I know.”

“You can’t read minds can you?” Peter mumbled. "You can do everything."

“I can read your face,” Bucky said, pulling the covers back up over both of them.

Peter didn’t hesitate to snuggle into Bucky’s side, and he was pleased when Bucky snuggled back. He groaned internally. It was going to be difficult to be around Bucky from now on since he knew what the man had to offer besides good looks.

“You smell good,” Peter said sleepily.

Bucky tightened his arm around Peter. He was going to have to cut the sleeves off a few shirts so he could wear them when Peter was around just to mess with him. He smiled at the thought.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to visit me at winterironspiderling.tumblr.com to check out my moodboards or to comment on this story if you have any thoughts/opinions.


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